Sheriarty smuuuut in a warehouse
by what-mofftiss-forgot
Summary: This is sheriarty. This is smut. Sherlock is sub, Moriarty is dom. Smut ensues. Enjoy! (Review with requests for other ships/ideas)
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock was handcuffed, kneeling on the cold floor of the warehouse he had been taken to. It was stupid of him to fall for that simple trick. He shouldve known-

Too late for that now.

But Sherlock wasnt stupid. He knew who it was who had captured him. It was obviously-

The door flung open, revealing the arch nemesis himself. Upon seeing Sherlock Moriarty smirked.

"Finally Sherlock. You know, ive always wanted this. You. Kneeling in front of me. I like handcuffs as well." He noticed Sherlock blushing a bit, but dismissed it as nothing. "Would you like that Sherly?"

He didnt reply.

"Well then, to business. You know, obviously, why I brought you here today." "Obviously," Sherlock sneered "Information." Jim nodded and paced around the kneeling figure. "And I could get it out of you. We can tie you up. Maybe we could whip you. Mm, maybe we could even use hot irons." He paused and looked down at the stoic man below him. "Would you like that Sherlock dear?" Sherlock gritted his teeth, trying to stop the familiar feelings. Oh, he so needed a cold shower. "Of course, I would use Moran, but that lacks the personal touch. I'm sure we would have- " Jim looked down in amazement. "Do you have a fucking boner?" Sherlock blanched. No way could his biggest secret come out like this, to his worst enemy- Jim slapped him across the face. Hard. Sherlock couldnt help but let out a tiny moan. Moriarty chuckled in amazement. "Well, who'd have thought it! The great Sherlock Holmes, a masochistic submissive. Perfect." Leaving Sherlock to puzzle, he left the room, leaving it in darkness once more.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock knelt on the cold floor, thinking. What had Moriarty meant, 'perfect'? He had been-experimenting- since university, yet had never quite understood hmself.

IBut now he had an awkward boner, just because of being threatened. It scared him how much of aimpact just a few words could have on him.

But Moriarty had always been attractive.

His thoughts werinterrupted by the man himself coming back into the room, carrying a whip and a long length of rope. "I see it still hasnt gone down," gesturing towards Sherlocks prominent erection. "Want some help with it?"

Sherlock glared at him. "I dont want or need you-" He was cut off by Moriarty forcefully grabbing his huge dick. He suckein a breath and looked up at his nemesis.

H

Jim smirked. "Ill ask you again Sherlock. Do you want my help?"

He looked in humiliation. "Yes."

"Yes who?"

Sherlock glared up at him. "I am not going to call-" He was cut off again by Jim slapping in the face, hard.

"Lets try that again. Yes who?"

He looked down to the floor. "Yes please sir." He repliedin a low voice.

Jim frowned."I'm sorr? I didnt quite hear that."

"Fine!" Sherlock yelled in frustration. "Please fuck me sir!"


	3. Chapter 3

Jim giggled delightedly. "Oh sherly, I'm not sure you're completely serious yet. I have a feeling youre being sarcastic." He gripped Sherlocks chin in his hands and forced him to look up. "By the end youll be begging, Sherlock."

Stepping away he lightly struck the whip against his hand a few times, looking down at the younger man through judgemental eyes.

He clicked his fingers and Moran walked in. "Take off the handcuffs Seb." The handcuffs were removed and Sherlock massaged his wrists until a sharp nod from Moriarty had his hands being tied to a large beam above his head.

Smirking, Jim nodded in delight. "His shirt." The shirt was roughly removed, along with his loose jeans.

Moriarty stood and dangerously paced over to him. "Remember I said youd be begging by the end Sherl?" He got a nod in reply and stroked the whip slowly, almost lovingly along Sherlocks smooth, pale expanse of back.

"I could ruin this beautiful piece of flesh. But youd let me. Youd like it." A hard hit to the back brought Sherlocks attention back. "Count."

" "One." He replied in his deep voice. It was quickly followed up by another blow, and then seven more. "Last one Sherlock." He brought the whip down with considerable force and smirked as Sherlock finally screamed.

"Ten!" he breathed and sagged against his bonds.

Walking round to his front Jim captured Sherlocks mouth in a rough kiss, knotting his fingers in his curly black hair, and scratching the sensitive skin of his back with the other, revelling in his hiss of pain. Sherlock moaned into the kiss. Despite his best efforts, the whipping had only made his erection harder.

He dearly hoped it was foreplay.


End file.
